Day Twelve: Vestments

Nearly Orthodox1

I’ve written already here about my resistance to being told what to wear. It’s that inner punk rocker having a tantrum. When I saw the topic for today that was my first thought. Tossing it aside to see what else I could find in my brain to write about I came next to the idea of writing about what my boys wear to church every week. It might be the same “nice” shirt, paired with school pants and gym shoes. We have no concept of Sunday Best around here and I’m okay with that. I think my priest is okay with that. My pals at church seem to be okay with that. Moving on. Delving a little deeper into the creative cerebral cortex on this I finally place my fingers on something old-


Garments of Faith

now will come to me lift up my face

offer glimmers of grace

garments of…

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